Last Gasp

Klingon Hamlet

The Jagged Mountains hid them from sight but we knew they were coming for us.

The earth shuddered beneath their pounding feet. The air carried the stench of their rotten flesh. The winds brought the shrieks of their human-bone battle horns. The sun wavered behind the fingers of black smoke rising from their weapons of doom.

Soon they emerged from a crack in the wall of mountains, an ocean of white flesh spilling out upon the Open Plains. The walking dead.

My crimson cape swirled about me like a flame. My armour shone brightly under the gaze of a rising sun. Banners of Liberty rose behind me. Flags. Trophies. Symbols of honour and courage. I would uphold that image with my dying breath if needs be. We were the heroes of this legend-to-be, or the martyrs. Either way, blood would flow soon, and I intended it to be that of the deathwalkers, not that of the humans. I was the captain now. I would bring victory this day.

A thousand men's eyes turned to me, most wide with panic and fear, some with pain. We had fought long and hard this week, through the dense network of invading Scouts and Intruders. We faced down beings of such immense power that only a tenth of our army still stood ready for battle today. The rest lay buried, or burnt, or twisted beyond recognition. Dark magic still crackled in the Northern Skies, above the Circle of Light, where we had brought death upon the final Shadowmancer. Now, here, upon the Frontier Towers, we stood ready to do battle with the greatest force of evil ever unleashed upon the world. And we knew, in a few hours, only light or shadow would prevail. No half-measure. No submission. No compromise.

Today would be our day of destiny,

“Captain.”

It was Korgan, my finest soldier. Tougher than a legion of soldiers put together, he could strike down his enemies with one hammer-blow of his fist, and still find time to crack a joke. A good man.

“Come forth, Korgan.”

He bowed and stepped out of formation. Immediately his brothers stepped in to replace him. All instinct now. We were all one. Seeing our brothers die, holding them as they rasped their final breath---even killing some, after they'd turned---had broguht us closer than friends or family.

Krogan rested his sword against a nearby wall, then lowered to one knee. I shook my head. “Up. You are my equal, now. Should I die, you will replace me, and make my spirit proud. Now...what is it?”

A war horn cried out, louder than the rest. Hungrier. Sharks, they were. No matter. They would drown in their own black blood, smother in their own guts, soon enough.

“Captain, you should retire to the control room. From there, you can deliver your commands and strategies.”

I smiled and leaned in close, so that he could see nothing but my eyes and teeth. “You think me a coward, friend, after all this time?”

“No! You are a genius. Far beyond those that worship you and covet you as their master, I included.” He looked off to the growing mass of evil creatures, licked his teeth. He too wanted to leap down there and slay them all. Only a shred of common sense kept him from doing so. “To lose you would be to lose the battle.”

I softened my grin, calmed down. Blood lust had overtaken me; I was a mere moment from striking him down. I cooled. “Thank you, but I am simply a stubborn bastard.”

At that, he laughed loudly and proudly, punching his chest. A few young soldiers chuckled nervously along with him. It eased the tension, if only for a moment. I glanced down. The Open Plains were gone. There was just the sea of un-dead faces now.

“Korgan,” I said softly, reaching slowly for my sword. “How many do you estimate are down there, baying for our blood?”

The big man followed my gaze and returned my concerned expression. “One hundred thousand, at least.”

“Good. Get the Gun.”